


Instant Messaging: The Perfect Place

by TheSaddleman



Series: Instant Messaging [15]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A little bit of angst, F/M, Humour, Psychic Paper, Romance, covid-19 reference, space married, what if, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23317594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman
Summary: The Doctor wants to take Clara somewhere perfect. Too bad he's run out of ideas.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor & Clara Oswin Oswald, Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: Instant Messaging [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/579631
Comments: 17
Kudos: 31





	Instant Messaging: The Perfect Place

**Author's Note:**

> This is set sometime between Sleep No More and Face the Raven.

Clara? 

...

Clara Clara Clara Clara Clara...

_I am here, oh powerful and wondrous sage._  
_Enlighten me with your wisdom through the amazing medium of psychic paper_  
_ye of the silver mane!_

Caught you after a night at the pub, did I?

_I’m just drunk on life, Doctor._  
_And I was waiting for your call._

I don’t normally warn you.  
How did you know? 

_I was just thinking about you._  
_So I conjured your call._  
_Magic._

Clara...

_OK, you arrived yesterday,_  
_a couple days too early_  
_for our next visit._  
_You said you had just messaged me._  
_And you let slip the time._  
_After I booped your nose._

That makes almost no sense.  
You really are learning to speak Doctor.

_So, what’s up?_  
_Yesterday You didn’t give me any clues._  
_Even after nose-booping was administered._

It’s rather embarrassing.  
Don’t really know how to put it.

_Is it something we’ll hear about at the next UNIT Christmas party?_

What?

_Does it involve Missy, a memory worm and a Barry Manilow album?_

You are drunk.  
Admit it.  
Barry Manilow?

_Spill it, Doctor. What’s going on?_

I’ve …  
run out of ideas  
about where to take us next.

_Seriously?_  
_There are a zillion-zillion stars_  
_and you can’t think of a good one for a date?_

It’s not a …  
Zillion isn’t a real…

_I didn’t think you could stammer on psychic paper!_

Seriously, Clara, this is worrisome.  
I never run out of ideas.

_What about pinning up a list_  
_and throwing a dart at it blindfolded?_  
_It’s worked before._

Even that didn’t inspire me.  
So, teacher’s choice.  
Pick a year. Any year.

_How about ... 2020._

Not that one.

_Why not?_  
_Nice round number._

Spoilers.  
Let’s just say we’d probably find ourselves  
confined to the TARDIS  
for an extended period.

_Just the two of us?_

Probably.

_And that’s a bad thing, why?_

Two words: social distancing.  
You like to hug too much.  
Anyway, it’s too close to your present.  
You don’t want to find out your favourite actor  
got hit by a bus next year.  
Or that a certain schoolteacher’s eyes  
got so big in 2019 they had to lock down Coal Hill  
for fear of an explosion.

_Hey, what’s wrong with my eyes?_

Nothing, just kidding.  
Pick another year.

_OK, how about the year…_  
_six million, three hundred and twenty-three thousand, five hundred and twelve._  
_BC._  
_Preferably a Thursday._

Are you trying to be funny?

_Well, it’s a meaningless question, Doctor._  
_Does it matter what year I give you?_  
_We’ll either find something cool to look at,_  
_or some exotic food that gives us space-heartburn,_  
_or a planet that needs saving._  
_Probably all three._

Listen, Clara,  
I really need your help.

_Why?_

Because …  
I want things to be perfect when I  
…

_Perfect for what, Doctor?_

…

_Testing, one-two-three…_

...

_Perfect for what, Doctor?_  
_Are you still there?_

Sorry. I was being overtaken by the Vortex Police.  
Couldn’t be seen using a mobile behind the wheel.

_Now who’s trying to be funny?_  
_Are you OK, Doctor?_  
_You’re not planning to regenerate again?_  
_I finally got this one trained._

Hopefully not for a few billion years.  
I just want to…  
…  
...celebrate your birthday. That’s it.  
I want things to be perfect when I celebrate your birthday.

_Doctor, it’s only March._  
_My birthday is in November._

Is it?  
Oh yes, quite right, quite right.  
Well, sorry for the false alarm, then.  
Tell you what –  
When we get together, I’ll break out the Randomiser.  
Haven’t played with it in years.  
That should do the trick.  
Feel like a gamble?

_With you, anytime._  
_You sure you’re OK?_  
_I can’t hear your voice, but I can sense –_

No, Clara, everything is fine.  
You know Time Lords have a habit of losing track of time.  
Just misread the calendar, is all.  
Reminds me of the time I celebrated a dozen Christmases  
on the same night.  
Got so loopy, I married Marilyn Monroe in Vegas.  
Though I still maintain that wasn’t a real chapel.

_I can’t wait to see the photos._  
_OK, Doctor. See you yesterday._  
_Take care, you clever boy._

***

The Doctor closed the small black wallet containing the psychic paper before Clara’s final message had completely faded away.

“Coward,” he grumbled to himself. The TARDIS beeped in agreement. “You shut up.”

He’d come close to giving the game away. And he wasn’t lying to Clara, either; it was true that he wanted everything to be perfect. But he knew perfection, the way he lived, was a rare and precious commodity.

He was thinking of doing something he had done far fewer times than he’d regenerated, yet each time was just as nerve-racking as dying and becoming a new man. Except for Marilyn, of course. But then that was sort of an accident and of course it wasn’t a real chapel (was it?). And with River, well, needs must and he had a chance to properly marry her later, after the latest crisis had been adverted and the universe was back to more-or-less normal again.

The Doctor looked down at a colourful handkerchief spread out on the TARDIS console. Placed dead-centre on the cloth was the ring with a diamond he’d mined himself from a planet that was one of the oldest in the universe. It glowed with its own internal light; a consequence of that planet’s natural bioluminescence. He already had a joke ready that if she said no, it would make a perfect nightlight. Of course, the tradition of presenting a ring was a human thing; there were an infinite array of other methods, not all of which left both partners still breathing. Best to stick to the familiar with Clara.

He shuddered for a moment as he realized there was one aspect of the whole venture that _did_ terrify him more than asking the question in the first place. What if she actually said no? It could be quite daunting, having a two-thousand-plus-year-old Time Lord asking for that kind of commitment. Plus, as careful as he might be, eventually something was bound to happen and after the golden light had faded away he might well end up with two noses, or looking like he was just about to graduate to daycare. And he was not Danny; that was a key factor he had to consider.

 _Stop catastrophising, Doctor,_ he thought sternly. _Let the future take care of itself._

He wrapped the ring in its handkerchief and put it gently in his pocket.

Someday, he’d find the perfect time and the perfect place to ask Clara a certain question. But not today.

The Doctor rubbed his chin as he tried to remember where he’d left the Randomiser.

**Author's Note:**

> I debated about whether or not to include the reference to Covid-19, but it's one of those events that will probably rank with 9/11 as a world-changer, plus the exchange Twelve and Clara have about it was what this story springboarded from in the first place, so I kept it.
> 
> The "marriage" to Marilyn Monroe comes from the 2010 Christmas special, "A Christmas Carol."
> 
> Although the Doctor was seen to marry River Song in "The Wedding of River Song," there was a plot hole left behind regarding him revealing his true name to her that has led to speculation that they had a "proper" wedding in a less-rushed, less "saving-the-universe" environment.


End file.
